


insular

by malgeum



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25321615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malgeum/pseuds/malgeum
Summary: Sephiroth is quiet, and Zack doesn't get why.
Relationships: Zack Fair/Sephiroth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 106





	insular

**Author's Note:**

> i was already thinking about zack and seph shower shenanigans, and then i saw @nekokat42 on twitter's sephzack, and i wanted to write it even more
> 
> comments appreciated <3

“Hey,” Zack said, taking Sephiroth by the pauldron and guiding him away from the warped, hideous corpse. It was  _ still _ , even though they’d spent a while fighting before returning here, oozing with something horrific, not red like blood and not quite as green as mako. “Hey, let’s get out of here.”

Sephiroth kept looking at it, even when Zack was pulling him back down the rocky path of the mountain. After a moment of a limping stride, a neck stretched toward what lay behind them, wretched and dead, he finally turned around. He did not remove his arm from Zack’s grip until they had made it almost back to the village — it was like he’d woken from a stupor, and then everything went back to normal, no strange fucking creatures or reminders of unspoken horrors, or whatever the hell was plaguing him beneath his skin at any given moment. 

That had been hours ago, before reporting back to Shinra, before touching base with the village guard, before eating a tasteless meal and heading back to their lodging for some hard-earned rest. Right now found them in a small, empty Shinra-issue outpost, one that used to have men permanently stationed here when they were thinking about building a reactor in this town, and would probably have men in it permanently now that there was a burgeoning monster problem. For now, though, it was empty, just Zack sitting thoughtfully on one of the several hard beds in the dark open space, Sephiroth already showering in the large enclosed stall at the opposite end of the room. 

Zack could tell something was up. This wasn’t just any Genesis copy — he didn’t know  _ what  _ about it had been different, as gruesome and unsettling as it was, but something had really latched on to Sephiroth and hadn’t let go. 

He stood up, gripping his shirt at the hem and pulling it up over his head, down the length of his hair until he could drop it on the bed behind him. 

And then he kept walking, slowly, taking a piece of his armor off with every few steps. Shoes first, then socks. Pants, weighted with weapons and a box of grenades, fell onto the dusty floor. He shed his undergarments, discarding them with a callous kick, and they found a home right by Sephiroth’s boots, lacquered with blue monster blood and guts, feathers crushed and sticking to them both like a grotesque marbled skin. What a hell of a fight. 

The steam had formed a dense fog in the bathroom, and it hardly dissipated when Zack slid the door open. He could see Sephiroth’s silhouette regardless, his broad shoulders motionless beneath the spray of water he was facing. Hot, humid air cloaked Zack’s naked body with a slow fierceness — dizzying, just a little. 

Sephiroth didn’t react when Zack stepped into the open shower, even though the door had made noise when he opened it, even though his feet made wet dripping sounds as he walked over the puddled floor near the drain. Zack approached him, all his width and height, the water running over him like a membrane. He placed a hand at the center of Sephiroth’s broad back, right between his shoulder blades. 

Nothing. 

He came closer, resting his chin on the back of Sephiroth’s shoulder, laid his open mouth against the one part of his neck not coated in the liquid silver of his hair. 

“Hey,” he whispered, licking and sucking very gently at the small patch of skin, water coating his tongue. “It’s been a long day. Lemme make you feel good.”

“It’s a waste of time, Zack.” Sephiroth’s voice was short and thin.  _ Uh oh. _

“Won’t know until you try,” he replied, aiming for a subtle kind of upbeat, the kind that wouldn’t get his ass kicked and put his tail between his legs. “Anything’s gotta be better than what’s going on in that head of yours right now.”

After a few seconds, Sephiroth turned, eyes on Zack the entire time it took to face him. And then he just stared, brilliant mako green; the shadows the milky fluorescents created on his face made the irises glow around sharp black pupils. His face looked different with his hair wet — angled and perceptive, always, but somehow softer. He considered Zack, looked down at him. 

And then he parted his lips just so, and Zack knew what was coming. 

He didn’t wait for it. 

Zack leaned up and took Sephiroth’s mouth in a kiss, warm-blooded and wide, rapturously slow. He felt Sephiroth’s tongue against his own within seconds, and he leaned to the side, slid his lips over the ones meeting them, let the tide recede and build before he started again.

He touched Sephiroth, bringing arms to that beautifully tapered waist, his hair like seaweed silk draped over the skin and muscle. It wasn’t long before Sephiroth had Zack’s hair in his hand, the part right at the back of his neck, now grown out more than enough to grab if he wanted to. The fingers lingered against his scalp.  _ Perfect.  _

Sephiroth licked into Zack’s mouth, slipping over his teeth, and moaned. Which always made Zack moan right in return. Fuck. He turned them carefully so that Sephiroth had his back against the tile wall now — and he hissed at the contact, what had to be cold to the touch even in spite of the cave of heat he’d created in here, and Zack felt Sephiroth’s nipples harden against his own chest. He moved his hand up to palm at one.

“Mm.” Sephiroth unthinkingly made these noises, and it always made his want swell huge and vast, a rush in every muscle and a thrill that shot all the way into his teeth. He would smile if he didn’t think it would ruin this moment. There was a purpose to this, and he wouldn’t make light of it, intentionally or not. 

He rubbed the heel of his hand into Sephiroth’s chest, thumb brushing inelegantly over the tight wet of his nipple. He pinched at the skin. He scratched at it with his thumbnail, pressing into it. 

Sephiroth responded to the touch by sliding his arm further over Zack’s shoulder, detaching his hand from the hair it was woven into, letting it catch in the spray of the shower to spritz over Zack’s back again. He had better access now; the muscle was taut in his hand, and the skin of it was supple in his palm. He didn’t stop working on it — he never would if it meant the breath loping into his mouth would slow back down, if it meant Sephiroth would stop getting hard against him. 

He slid his other hand down to Sephiroth’s ass, the muscle firm beneath his fingers. He grabbed it with his whole hand. He always relished the feeling of this part, the indulgence of it. He loved knowing what it looked like beneath the sleek, preying leather of his coat when he watched him walk. The skin slid with a watery slip when he brought him closer, pressed Sephiroth into his lap to let their cocks slide together.

The noise Zack made was kind of embarrassing — it was hard to care though, ever, when it felt this good. Sephiroth hummed against his mouth anyway. 

He knew Sephiroth would never really admit to liking being touched, or to getting attention, but something about it always seemed to make him melt a little. Thaw, really, more than melt; he always seemed encased in some kind of self-imposed cold that had little to do with others and a lot to do with himself. He was hard to read, but not that difficult to understand, at the end of the day. 

The pressure started to mount. Sephiroth got a leg around him, his heel scraping up the back of Zack’s calf. With a little mourning, Zack slid his busy hand down, down, down until it reached their cocks. He took them both in his hand, pressing them into each other, and pumped. 

_ Oh, yeah.  _ This was his favorite part: the way Sephiroth would lean his head back to expose his neck, the way he’d groan, pleased, out into the air. The way he would cant his hips up into Zack’s promising fist, both of them chasing friction and want, a tiny moment of excellent after a day of less than. He kissed the skin waiting for him, nosing aside the sticking gray of that hair to give him more room. 

“‘S that good?” he panted into Sephiroth’s ear, his own cock feeling heavy and his body sparking with heat. “You want more?”

“Yes,” Sephiroth said quietly, plainly. Like he should have known that already. He smirked into the sharp angle of his jawline before giving it a long, languid lick. He licked it again, nice and wet. And then he did it again, lower, lower still. 

He crouched, flicking his tongue over Sephiroth’s unloved nipple enough that it made him arch his back. And then he continued on, leaving him wanting more, licking the water off the dipped valley of his stomach, down to his navel. Breathless, he mouthed a line down the hard, flushed cock waiting for him, rubbed his scarred cheek against it before taking it between his lips. 

Sephiroth immediately had a hand in his hair, slowly weaving itself tight near his scalp. Control, wherever he could take it.  _ Nice.  _

Zack was nothing if not dedicated. He was dedicated to Sephiroth, to his thick and glorious cock, to making him feel good. He was dedicated to being good at this, at taking the tip in for a slow, enticing lick before letting the whole of it slide down toward his throat. He was committed to the pulse of it against his lips, to dragging it out and taking it all the way back in, letting his fingers work in a circle around the base. The water from the shower was running over his head from this low of a position, and it ran into his eyes. That was fine, though — it covered up the line of tears that started to form on his lashes when he got a little ambitious, and it eventually made him have to close his eyes, the way he knew Sephiroth liked to have him anyway. 

Sephiroth gave shallow, pleasured thrusts into his mouth, pace perfect and on the right edge of swift, tip grazing the top of Zack’s throat with each inward hit. His hair had an unyielding grip in Zack’s hair, the same that Zack had on his ass, both of them pushing him closer into Sephiroth’s pelvis, both of them chasing the same high. 

It wasn’t long before the best part. Zack whined around Sephiroth’s cock, breathing hard through his nose. It felt fucking amazing. The whole thing. He had to put a hand on his own cock just to relieve a bit of the sweet, urgent desire that sat swollen between his hips. He didn’t falter once, not even when he thrust into his own palm, his rhythm just slightly off of the one Sephiroth kept on his face. The warm pool of water beneath his knees and the hard tile they sat on — the tug in his soaking hair — the heat in his mouth — Sephiroth,  _ Sephiroth, you feel so good, I want you to feel so, so, so good —  _

He felt Sephiroth’s body stagger above him, clenched with restraint — and then he was shooting hot and liquid down Zack’s throat, head tipped back against the shower wall and low voice threaded in his breath, free hand on the tile behind him to stabilize himself. The sight was impossibly erotic. The hero of Shinra, of every world they knew, finishing in Zack’s mouth because he chose to. 

The novelty never wore off. He was starting to think it never would. 

It hardly took much more to finish himself off. He kept Sephiroth’s cock in his mouth, even though it was starting to soften a little. Something about that was even more exciting to him anyhow. He came with a burst of feeling, hot and sinking. And he rode it out, fast and simple and delicious. He wanted to live in that moment.

At some point, though, he did have to detach, just to catch his breath; he just put his head against the sleek bone of Sephiroth’s hip, reveling in ecstasy and a job well done.

Sephiroth was also catching his breath, eyes closed where he stood, a noticeable lack of rigidity in his back relative to when they’d started. Zack couldn’t help but smile. He nuzzled into Sephiroth’s navel, the shower still cascading over him. But then he got up, knees radiating, remembering himself — this wasn’t about him. 

“C’mere,” he said, gathering Sephiroth in his arms, wrapping them around the tapered middle of his waist. Sephiroth leaned into him, hand still lingering at the back of Zack’s head. And then his head moved to rest on Zack’s shoulder. His hair, a tangling mass of dripping strands, fell heavy over his own, over the browned skin of Zack’s forearm. “You okay?”

For a long moment, it was silent. Just the patter of false raindrops in this contained space, the echo of the shower’s hiss, Sephiroth’s breathlessness a quiet rasp in his ear. Zack put a palm between his shoulders again, feeling the back of his heartbeat — fast but faint, deceptively light in such a large, electric creature. He waited. 

“It looked like me,” Sephiroth finally said, his voice entirely muted, contained to the inches between them. “That was all.”

Zack felt his brow crunch, processing this. But then — “The copy?”

“Yes.”

Zack didn’t quite get it. It was a Genesis copy, or at least a vague reminder of one, bizarre and horrible and a thing that half-floated, half-slunk against the ground with weighted limbs and a slimy mouth. It had arms and some half-sprouted wing, the whole of its body incomplete and never intended to be anything more. It had been pitiful to look at, despite the challenge of its kill. It had felt like a massive stretch to call it a Genesis copy to begin with, or even anything resembling a human. He had no clue what Sephiroth meant —  _ looked  _ like him? No way in hell. 

He scratched gently at the back of Sephiroth’s neck anyway, nails blunt against the warm skin, hoping it would show that he understood somehow. 

“It’s okay,” he told him, willing to stand there for however long it took. “It wasn’t you.”

They lingered there for a while, the air not lifted but at least a little softer. Sephiroth put his hand on the back of Zack’s neck, seeking and intentional, and gave it a gentle pat.


End file.
